LOT - 8

During the first half of the night, Rong Mu’s heart wouldn't stop thumping. The more he replayed his conversation with the Emperor, the more lingering fear he felt.

He had no idea how this dog Emperor had trained himself; not only was his mind quick, but he was also constantly digging pits for Rong Mu to fall into. Fortunately, Rong Mu had grown a few extra hearts (wits) of his own, or else he wouldn't even know how he died.

However, Ming Chun was right about one thing... this tyrant truly lived a clean and disciplined life.

Rong Mu peered sideways, looking at the quilt that acted as a barrier between them and the tyrant’s peaceful, orderly sleeping posture. The man said he wouldn't touch him, and he really didn't. How many emperors in history could have someone on their dragon bed and remain completely indifferent... Could he have some kind of hidden medical condition?

Rong Mu inhaled sharply, feeling that the more he knew, the faster he would die.

He carefully turned his body over, his eyes traveling from the Emperor's forehead and brow down to the perfect silhouette of his chest.

Identity, status, looks, this man had it all. In an era like this, he was the top-tier configuration. How did his personality end up like such a dog...

"Have you seen enough?"

Rong Mu jolted violently. He saw that there wasn't a trace of sleepiness in Shang Cizhou's eyes, he had been caught red-handed.

Rong Mu hurriedly turned back around, burying his head under the quilt and refusing to speak further.

After a while, he felt some rustling from the Emperor’s side. The man didn't get out of bed, it seemed he was just wrapping himself up even more tightly.

Rong Mu was speechless. This Emperor was morally bankrupt, but his Male Virtue (chastity/discipline) was exceptionally high. He decided to clear his own mind as well, otherwise, it would look like he was the one with impure intentions.

Once he had fallen into a deep sleep under the covers, Shang Cizhou slowly opened his eyes.

The person a meter away was sleeping spread-eagled, as if any slight bend in his arms or legs would be uncomfortable. In the dark night, the youth’s skin looked like smooth white porcelain. As the candlelight flickered by the bed, Shang Cizhou’s pupils grew deep. He reached out and pinched Rong Mu’s wrist, only smoothing his own brow after a long moment.

Weak and powerless. The web of the thumb is smooth.

His entire body radiated harmlessness... though he seemed obedient, he was actually full of a resilient spirit that could bend but never be broken.

Shang Cizhou closed his eyes. After a moment, with a hint of impatience, he extended his foot and kicked Rong Mu’s exposed calf back under the quilt.

Rong Mu mumbled something. Shang Cizhou instinctively held his breath for a second, only to hear the other party mutter a curse: "Dog Emperor."

Shang Cizhou: "..."

***

After that first deep probing session, the two spent the next few days in relative peace. The Emperor didn't trouble Rong Mu again, and Rong Mu began to adapt to palace life.

The weather was still quite cold in the mornings. Seeing the Emperor get up at five every day for court while he could curl up in his quilt for a second nap filled his heart and soul with joy.

Salted fish (slacker) lifestyle, the ultimate dream of a white lotus flower.

However, ever since the Emperor found out that he drank raw dew every morning, the way the man looked at him had been strange for a long time, as if he were suffering from some incurable brain disease.

Rong Mu couldn't be bothered by what the tyrant thought. As long as he maintained the right distance between them and helped fend off the birds and bees outside, it would be perfect if the Emperor eventually let him go to Nandai to live a carefree life.

With this mindset, the day of the Spring Flower Banquet arrived. Early that morning, Rong Mu was in Ziyuan Hall getting dressed and his hair bound. He even specifically took out his little green clothes (his transformed green leaves/robes), intending to strive for first place for the Emperor. 

The little maid Ming Chun was heavily infatuated with Rong Mu’s face. in just a few days, she had become completely spellbound and had spilled almost every piece of gossip and secret in the Shang Dynasty.

"Oh? Miss Ma from the Minister's house ran away with a poor scholar, and His Majesty actually granted them a marriage? Typical of him."

"His Majesty’s favorite horse is called Wuzhui? Nice name, I’ll go see it another day."

"The late Emperor didn't like His Majesty back when he was Crown Prince, yet His Majesty still 'counter-attacked' and became Emperor? Nice! Truly impressive!"

"His Majesty and I... eight times in one night?! What eight times?!" Rong Mu nearly spat out his tea. "Don't go spreading wild rumors!"

That tyrant was as chaste as a monk. Every night he treated Rong Mu like air. There was absolutely nothing going on. They were pure, professional partners!

Ming Chun looked shy: "Young Master shouldn't say that. His Majesty’s favor for you is obvious to everyone. Knowing you love morning dew, he specifically told Eunuch Lang to collect the freshest dew every morning to brew for you. I even heard that His Majesty has been praising your virtues loudly in court. Now every official knows you are the 'apple of His Majesty's eye'!"

Rong Mu: "..."

He's more likely the type to pluck out an eye!

The Emperor was truly using everything to its full potential. He was keeping his own chastity for heaven-knows-who while grabbing a free sheep like Rong Mu to fleece for all he was worth!

"If I die today at the hands of a love rival, Ming Chun, remember to ask His Majesty for my pension," Rong Mu sighed to the mirror.

Ming Chun hurriedly spat (to ward off bad luck): "Young Master has peerless beauty; you will surely live for a hundred years!"

Rong Mu: "Thank you for letting me feel the Truth, Beauty, and Goodness of the palace."

Ming Chun buried her face in her hands, embarrassed.

Rong Mu handed the bell-adorned hair ribbon to Ming Chun. The little maid was a master at braiding. In no time, she had arranged his long hair perfectly, half gathered up, half falling softly down his back.

"Young Master is truly beautiful... the fragrance on your clothes is wonderful, too. Even a single hair ribbon is so silky..." Ming Chun murmured.

Rong Mu sensed something was off and clapped his hands: "Ming Chun? Ming Chun!"

Ming Chun snapped back to her senses, her cheeks instantly turning beet red. "Forgive me, Young Master, Ming Chun overstepped."

Rong Mu frowned but said nothing. He rose and walked toward his original body sitting in the corner.

He now personally looked after the Bijianxue every day. When he drank dew, the original body was drinking. When he tanned in the sun, the original body was tanning. Thus, Rong Mu was radiant with health, and the Bijianxue had even grown a section taller.

Along with this came a change in the color at the tip of the bud.

"Purple..."

The tip of this white lotus was actually turning purple.

Rong Mu leaned down to observe closely, then looked back at Ming Chun waiting for him.

He seemed to understand why so many people had been dazed by his face lately.

Rong Mu stared seriously at his original body and whispered a warning: "You better stay self-isolated and hold it in for a while. It's not time to bloom yet. Wait until I’ve smoothed things over with the Emperor... then I’ll take you away with me openly. We’ll go to Nandai and be the national favorites! If you choose to bloom now, it’s not even certain we’ll be able to leave! ...Show some backbone. I have to go do something big for the Emperor today."

He silently stroked the head of the flower bud and let out a helpless sigh.

No one could have told him that once this Buddha Lotus blooms, it comes with a soul-captivating effect. If it were just a flower, people would just think it a rare treasure. The main issue was him, the one who evolved out of the flower.

He was basically a walking, human-shaped sachet!

However, comparing the infatuated reactions of others, it was clear just how well the Emperor was guarding his own chastity.

With such complex feelings and a touch of admiration, Rong Mu led Ming Chun out of the Emperor’s Ziyuan Hall for the first time, thinking he’d take this chance to see if there were any other connections between him and his original body.

He didn't know what kind of hype the tyrant had generated for him, but everyone they encountered along the way turned and avoided him. Rong Mu walked the whole way without seeing a single person's full face.

Rounding a few palace walls, willow branches hanging over the high walls brushed against Rong Mu's hair. Besides the faint lotus scent he was used to, there was now a flurry of floral scents mixed with cosmetic powders.

Rong Mu walked past a row of swaying willows, Ming Chun following closely behind, occasionally reminding him of the forks in the road. Another stretch of red walls and green tiles followed. 

Light and shadow spilled from the glazed tiles, scattering across Rong Mu's elegant nose bridge and sliding across his cheeks and neck. He reached out to pluck a flower branch and saw various figures in the garden not far away.

Unless one had Social Overload Syndrome, it would be hard to survive such an occasion.

Fortunately, Rong Mu's face gave him a lot of confidence. Just as he was about to step out, he heard Ming Chun bow to the side and say: "Greetings to the three Consorts."

Rong Mu thought "Oho" in his mind and turned to look.

The tyrant’s romantic fortune wasn't bad at all.

Three handsome men, each with their own unique temperament and looks, stared blankly at Rong Mu's face. It took a long moment before someone lowered their head and bowed.

"Hearing of you is not as good as seeing you. Seeing Consort Rong today, I realize that we are but dust beneath the flowers. I am ashamed to even compare."

In the distance, several noble ladies were gathered, drinking and making merry. Occasionally, they hid behind their handkerchiefs to steal a glance, as if watching the excitement on this side.

Before long, they were all staring at the youth in the green robe at the front, whispering amongst themselves.

Rong Mu returned the bow with practiced ease. "And how may I address you all?"

The man with the refined appearance spoke first: "In response to the Consort, my name is Lan Ji (Blue Season)." He then pointed to a daydreamer beside him who had his hands tucked into his sleeves: "He is Lu Fu (Green Ambush)." Finally, he looked at the third person, who wanted to look at Rong Mu but didn't dare: "He is Hong Shuang (Red Frost). We have been ordered by His Majesty to specifically accompany Consort Rong to enjoy the spring and the flowers."

Rong Mu: "..."

"Wait... were these... names all given to you by His Majesty?"

The three nodded in unison. Each perfectly beautiful face was stuck with a color-coded alias.

Rong Mu closed his eyes.

...Thank goodness he had announced his own name after transmigrating.

Otherwise, the person standing here today wouldn't be the gentleman Rong Mu, but someone called "Tu Hua" (Soil Flower) or "Bai Lian" (White Lotus).​